Happiness...
One word.
One breath.
One hope.
Why do we search,
For something we cannot find?
Why do we run,
When we cannot hide?
Why can it be grasped,
But never held?
Why must I hold on,
To that hope,
When all I want,
Is to let go.
Why must if be found,
In oneself than in anything else.
Why must I keep myself,
From this feeling?
Sabotage...
One word.
One breath.
One consequence.
I hurt myself everyday,
By keeping one word away,
By keeping another close.
By refusing myself what I desire most.
Happiness.
It can not be found.
It can only be forged.
It can not be made through the outside world.
It can only be made in the depths of the soul.
And so I search.
Not outside, but within.
And so I look, for that peace,
For that willingness to be that one word.
Happy...
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories and poems for the lonely soul
Storie breviThis is a collection of short stories and poems that I wrote for fun. These do tend to have darker themes with murder and war. Then there are recent events such as one on the current plague and one that focuses on family.
